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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950936">misdemeanor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band), WayV (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:36:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950936</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello.”</p><p> <i>Oh.</i></p><p>Mark had no idea that it was possible for a single word to make him blush.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>misdemeanor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Saturday, 8 February 2020</strong><br/>
<strong>02:31 AM</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Mark can feel his heart hammering wildly inside his chest.</p><p>He had already downed three glasses of whiskey in a record time of two minutes, both drained in one smooth motion while his thumb hovered over the keys of his phone. When he felt that the alcohol still had no effect, he poured himself another one.</p><p>And another one.</p><p>He wasn’t even entirely sure whether he should do what he was about to do in his current state.</p><p>He checked his phone screen once again, remembering the eleven-digit phone number off the top of his head from one of the hotlines on one of the lists he had stared at for so long as he briefly trying to sort himself out. Sure, no one at work would be able to know what he would be doing tonight, but that knowledge still didn’t make him any less anxious.</p><p>Mark drained his drink in one gulp and breathed in—taking an ample amount of air to keep himself calm—before pressing the numbers on his dial pad, chuckling humorlessly at the absurdity of what he was about to do. He couldn’t help it, he was trying to de-stress even before he got to the stressing part of his soon-to-be graduate degree program, a habit he found handy throughout his years as an undergraduate student. Mark already had a long history of bad coping mechanisms... and it seemed that calling a phone sex hotline for the first time while he was intoxicated would be included on the record.</p><p>It was downright ridiculous. He wasn’t even good with people, much more with conversing, but he was too fucking horny to even consider chickening out—especially now that he could hear a vaguely familiar classical music piece playing at the other end of the line.</p><p>He heard a soft click.</p><p>He sucked in an ample amount of air through his mouth and tried his best to even out his breathing before he got to the part where he was supposed to speak. A woman’s voice greeted him after a short pause, low and sultry like the ones in the ads of his favorite porn site but still quite as robotic as an automated-voice greeting, and Mark felt a sharp tug in his gut.</p><p>“Welcome to Pay For Play Hotline. If you are under eighteen, please hang up now. If you are over eighteen, please press one.”</p><p>He sighed in relief, thankful that he didn’t need to speak too much. Mark pressed one and the woman told him to press the pound key to continue; the option for non-members, she said. The woman told him the summarized version of the hotline’s terms and conditions before confirming if he still wanted to continue.</p><p>Mark answered yes.</p><p>“You need to record your name to introduce yourself to our operator. After the tone, please record your first name or the name you prefer to be called.”</p><p><em>Here we go</em>, he thought to himself. Mark heard a long beep and the question of whether this was a good idea or not crept once again at the back of his mind. There was still the jerking-off-to-porn option, after all, and he could still hang up before they could even connect him. Mark tried to think of a generic name that won’t be anywhere near his own, but the beeping stopped short, making him panic and almost say his real name.</p><p>“Ma—” His voice faltered halfway and he took it as an opportunity to change it, “Matt.”</p><p>He didn’t want to drag a made-up person in this scenario and he hoped whoever gets connected won’t say intimate things while using that word. Mark disliked the idea. Saying any name out loud would just beat the purpose of what he was trying to prove to himself by doing this: that sex—<em>phone sex</em>, for this matter—can be totally impersonal, and attachment wasn’t a prerequisite for one to enjoy another person’s company.</p><p>“Okay, Matt. If you want a female operator, press one. If you want a male operator, press two. If you want us to choose someone at random, press three.”</p><p>He took his phone away from his ear and stared blankly at the three topmost numbers of his dial pad. The urge to press the first one was unexpectedly less appealing than pressing the second number, but he didn’t want to be connected to some dude who probably won’t interest him. He would rather just keep his options open than making his first time boring. Mark sighed, hesitating for a moment while his thumb circled over his phone keys, before finally pressing three.</p><p><em>There</em>, he told himself with a little bubble of confidence blooming inside him, <em>that wasn’t so bad at all, was it</em>?</p><p>“Thank you for using Pay For Play Hotline. I will now connect you to a random open line. Enjoy your night.” The operator beeped once and a piece of classical music—Igor Stravinsky’s <em>Le Sacre du Printemps</em>, Mark finally recognized—played while the line was connecting. His eyes flicked to his abandoned glass on the bedside table, contemplating whether he should pour himself another one. The music stopped, however, and all the thoughts of alcohol left his brain as he felt his palms sweat.</p><p>“Uh,” he started hesitantly when the person on the other end of the line didn’t speak first, transferring his phone to his left hand so that his right one was free. “Hello?”</p><p>“Hello.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>Mark had no idea that it was possible for a single word to make him blush.</p><p>A low, amused voice of a man greeted him, the vibration going straight to his cock and stirring it to life. He sounded about the same age as him, an observation that made him more interested. The man chuckled and Mark had to clench his jaw to keep himself from releasing any unwarranted noise.</p><p>It was still too early for that.</p><p>“You sound nervous. I’m guessing this is your first time?”</p><p>It was posed to sound more of a question rather than a statement, but it didn’t fit the tone of the man’s voice. Mark tried his best to answer casually, only for his words to come out awkward and forced. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, it is.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” the man said soothingly. “It’s just the two of us on the line. I’ll guide you through it.”</p><p>Mark could hear his own breathing, accentuated by the silence surrounding him. He suddenly felt hot inside and out, and he was sure that his chest was turning an ugly shade of red from the heat. He nodded toward the darkness of the room. “Uh, that means a lot.”</p><p>There was a pause on the other end of the line and Mark once again became entirely too aware of how loud his heart was beating. The alcohol had finally kicked in and it was making his heart’s rhythm faster as if it was about to burst out of his chest. The man thankfully spoke again after a moment. “For formality’s sake, you can call me Lucio. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly understandable. You can call me whatever you want.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he answered, unsure what else to say to keep the man talking. They had only exchanged less than a hundred words, but each time the other opened his mouth, it felt as if he was talking next to Mark, breathing down on the curve of his neck. His voice was like a prayer, he observed, one that was too intimate to be wasted in a telephone conversation.</p><p><em>Lucio</em>, Mark repeated slowly in his head, tucking the name in one of the layers of his brain. It sounded mundane to Mark, unfitting for the owner of the voice. He might as well let the call the man with his own name if that was the case. From the way he had said it, he had a feeling the man didn’t want to be called by that, either.</p><p>“My pleasure.” The man’s voice seemed gruffer than before and Mark found himself squirming on the bed, digging the muscles of his back onto the headboard. The man continued. “Any specific thing you want to do for your first time?”</p><p>“Uh.” Mark hesitated, realizing that he had no idea how to proceed. “What do you have in mind?”</p><p>Another chuckle.</p><p>“I guess we’ll find out together,” the man practically purred back. “Are you on the bed?”</p><p>He took a shaky breath and choked out a hoarse, “Yes.”</p><p>“That’s good.” The man’s voice was low and steady, sending little sparks of excitement up to Mark’s spine. “Tell me what you’re wearing, then.”</p><p>Mark closed his eyes and clutched on the sheets with his free hand. He could feel his cock filling, but he wanted to wait for further instructions from the man before he could do anything—assuming, of course, that there was any. He eased the tension on his jaw and opened his eyes to look down at his crotch. “Boxers. Just boxers.”</p><p>“Good boy, you’re ready for me. I like that.”</p><p>Mark swallowed, feeling his stomach flutter at the compliment. The man gave out a soft hum of approval, sounding pleased at having known that he was almost stripped bare. Mark could almost see the man nodding to himself. By the time the man pushed on, the timbre of his voice sounded anew. It sounded more demanding. “Now, I want you to palm yourself through your boxers and I want you to keep doing that unless I tell you otherwise. Is that understood?”</p><p>He grazed his knuckles on the outline of his now fully hard cock, teasing it lightly as he answered the man’s question. “Yes.”</p><p>“Good. Do you know what else I like?”</p><p>Mark drew in a sharp breath, his cock twitched in interest. “What?”</p><p>“The way your breath hitches every time you speak. It sounds like music, one that I’d want to hear on loop.” The man let out a grunt, the sound going straight to Mark’s belly again. Mark cupped his balls through the fabric of his boxers before sliding his palm up and down his cock. “I bet it sounds more harmonious when I have my mouth around your cock while you beg for me to stop.”</p><p>“Please,” Mark said in with a groan. The friction he was getting wasn’t enough.</p><p>“Do you want me to call you Matt or would you rather I call you something more... intimate, hmm?” The man soldiered on with his questions, seemingly more encouraged by Mark’s loud and harsh breathing. “Baby? Sweetheart?<em> Darling</em>?”</p><p>Mark groaned again, both in confirmation and desperation, as he tried to tighten his grip on his cock. Whether it was the whiskey or it was the man’s voice that was making him <em>this</em> vocal, he couldn’t find it in him to care.</p><p>“Darling it is,” the man said, the usual amused tone present in his voice. “You sweet little thing. You’re doing so good for me right now.”</p><p>Mark moaned at the praise, back arching from the headboard as he tried to get as much contact as possible through his boxers. “I can’t—”</p><p>“It’s all right,” the man hushed. “I’m here. Take your cock out of your boxers for me, please.”</p><p>Mark panted, fumbling at his waistband with one hand for a second, before muttering a soft ‘thank you’ as his cock sprang free. He moaned and closed his eyes as soon as his warm hand closed on his erection, his thumb swiping at the wetness beading on the tip.</p><p>“So polite and responsive,” the man murmured, “my cock’s already hard just by imagining the things I’d do to you.”</p><p>“Please,” Mark let out again. He gave his erection one loose pump, breath shuddering at the contact.</p><p>“Please what, darling?”</p><p>“Oh, God,” Mark said, thrusting involuntarily around his fist. “Tell me. Please.”</p><p>He imagined the faceless man with a mischievous grin on his face, ready to devour him if he would just ask. “Since you asked so nicely. I’d start by marking you everywhere—on your neck, on your shoulders—making sure everyone who sees it knows you’re mine. Then I’ll move down, licking and sucking every skin that my lips would cover until I finally get my mouth on your sweet cock. Do you want that, darling?”</p><p>Mark whined and choked out a rough <em>yes</em>. He heard the man chuckled, a rich, deep sound making his insides flip up and down. “I thought so. Should I continue?”</p><p>Mark’s pace quickened at the thought of hearing more. He twisted on the bed, throwing his head back against the headboard without care. He still had his eyes closed, lost in pleasure. The man’s voice brought him back to reality. “I need you to use your voice, love.”</p><p>“Keep talking,” he commanded.</p><p>The man hummed again. “I don’t think I’ll start from the top, no? I’d drag my tongue from your balls all the way up, slowly working on the head, until you thrust into my mouth like I know you so badly want right now. I’d let you fuck my mouth until your legs finally give out.”</p><p>Mark spread the precum dripping from the head all the way down to his length, stroking himself diligently as he imagined the faceless man going down on his knees to suck him. “<em>Fuck</em>.”</p><p>“Your turn, darling,” the man said without missing a beat. “Tell me what you’ll do to me after.”</p><p>“I...” Mark’s breath hitched as he heard the loud sound of his tight wet fist sliding up and down. He could feel himself close now. “I’ll pull you to the bed.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.” He bit his bottom lip and squeezed on his cock, trying to delay his release. “I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.”</p><p>“Oh, darling, you say the sweetest things.” He could practically hear the smile lacing the man’s voice. “It makes me want to pry you open with my fingers and my tongue, let those tight ring muscles loosen up until you’re writhing and begging for my cock inside you.”</p><p>Mark’s balls tightened. He opened his mouth to say something, but the man had other ideas, continuing the vivid image he was painting to Mark. “Then I’d carry you up again to push you up against the wall and fuck you senseless, making sure you’d feel me for days.”</p><p>Little white circles clouded Mark’s eyes. He couldn’t hear himself cry out in pleasure as his whole body vibrated. The person on the other line certainly heard him, though, as the man deliciously groaned and grunted in tune with his own. The man whispered words of encouragement on Mark’s ear, ones that seemed too good to be a product of Mark’s imagination, as he let the sensations consume him, body shaking while hot white spurts covered his lower abdomen.</p><p>“That’s it, darling. You did so well. That’s it,” the man cooed as Mark rode down his orgasm. Mark’s mind was still scrambling by the time the man spoke again. “Was that okay for a first time?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Mark answered sheepishly, suddenly feeling tired. “Uh. Thank you.”</p><p>“I’m glad.” The man sounded genuinely pleased. If Mark could think straight at the moment, he would’ve wondered what that meant. The man probably heard the strain in his voice. “Good night, darling.”</p><p>“You, too,” he replied back before the line went dead. Mark tossed his phone on the other side of the bed and closed his eyes, not bothering to clean himself up, feeling satisfied for the first time in years.</p><p>He slept a dreamless sleep.</p><p> </p><p>X-XXX-XXX-XXXX</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Saturday, 8 February 2025</strong><br/>
<strong>10:31 AM</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He leaned back in his swivel chair, tapping his pen lightly on the hardcover of the unopened file folder sitting idly on his wooden desk, before finally clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth in annoyance and checking his watch for what seemed like the fifth time this hour.</p><p>“You should relax,” Jeno said with a sigh, putting a copy of the latest issue of ABA Journal magazine over his face as he comfortably lay on the velvet chaise lounge in Mark’s office. “You can always fire him whenever you want.”</p><p>“I can’t,” he replied through gritted teeth. “He’s technically not under my employ.”</p><p>Jeno audibly huffed out a chuckle under the magazine. “As if that’s ever stopped you before, wonder boy.”</p><p>Mark stopped his incessant tapping on the folder and shut his eyes for a brief moment, adjusting the frame of his glasses using the pen in his hand. They had already been waiting for half an hour for someone to send in whoever their father got to spy on him—under the unsuspicious guise of hiring him as Mark’s executive assistant, of course—and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t feeling even just a little bit antsy over it.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eyes and through the glass walls of his office, he saw their firm’s office manager exit the elevator with a six-foot-something man dressed in a navy blue plaid three-piece suit trailing closely behind her. He had never seen the man before, but Mark immediately found his gaze zeroing in on him, trying to assess and pick apart his entire being with what little he had to observe as an excuse to stare at him.</p><p>The man walked in long but even strides, his blond hair meticulously styled in a brushed up long top undercut, and he wore a suit so immaculate that it almost looked as if it was fresh out of a department store. Nothing about him belonged in an office, Mark mused. If any, he looked more of a model who was ready to take the runway by storm.</p><p>“Go take a picture, it’ll last longer,” his brother said as he sat up straight, effectively snapping Mark out of his thoughts and drawing him back into the room with him. Jeno smirked to himself, tossing the magazine back on the coffee table, and only winked at him once he met Mark’s glare.</p><p>He rolled his eyes but said nothing in response, only signaling for the office manager to come in once they were at his door, subconsciously pulling at his own suit and fixing his hair before standing up to greet them. “Good morning, Mina.”</p><p>“Good morning, Mark,” she replied and gave him a funny look, glancing between him and Jeno as if she was trying to figure out something. Once her eyes landed back on him, Mina let out a breath. “Your father asked me to introduce you to your new executive assistant. He’ll be starting on Monday.”</p><p>The man beside her stepped forward, a bright but reserved smile flashing on his face, and extended a hand out toward him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lee.”</p><p>Mark suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine, the words that came out of the man’s mouth momentarily rendering him frozen in his spot. He gulped and slowly looked up from the man’s outstretched hand to his face, eyes widening in surprise as the realization dawned on him.</p><p><em>Lucio</em>.</p><p>“I’m Lucas Wong.”</p>
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